Leonard and Sally sat on separate benches.
Reading material is here, if you are feeling worshipful, Zedekiah said, pointing to some leather-bound tomes with golden Hebrew writing on their covers. They looked very much like the books Leonard’s grandfather read, only newer. One, on top, was very small and featured silver cornerpieces. Leonard was about to reach for it, to see the patterns stamped on its leather exterior, when Zedekiah said, It is possible to watch the learning.
Leonard jumped up, and Zedekiah showed him a small peeping hole in the varnished wood door.
This is what Leonard saw:
Felix looking on while a freakishly tall bearded man with a space between his teeth practiced awesome karate kicks.
He’s laughing
Sally! Leonard shouted. He’s there! Felix is there! He’s laughing.
Laughing at the Master? Zedekiah said, pushing Leonard away. This is not possible. Enough. Sit back down. You are not initiated.
Not initiated! Leonard said. I taught the boy everything he knows! and to Zedekiah’s infinite surprise, and possibly his own, he too began to kick.
When he finished, Zedekiah’s face was white, and Leonard’s was bright red.
I insist on seeing the boy this very minute!
I’ll see what can be done, Zedekiah muttered, and left the room through a door that seemed to lead in an entirely different direction.
Come look, Leonard said to Sally.
I trust you, Sally said.
Leonard looked again through the peeping hole. Abulafia was still kicking, his face ecstatic; Felix was watching a miniature sundial near a window, apparently shouting encouragement. On a low table, near the Master, what looked to be a navigator watch; under the table, carrying bags.
Zedekiah was nowhere in sight. This is ridiculous, Leonard thought, so he simply opened the door.
There was no rending of the universe, no disappearing into alternative space realms. Instead, Felix shouted, Leonard! and Abulafia, losing his concentration, lost his balance and landed on an elbow.
Leonard wasn’t sure what to do first: hug Felix or check whether Felix had stopped yet another world.
He hugged Felix, of course, who said, Don’t worry, I didn’t stop the world. Abba taught me how to control my powers. It’s not hard once you know how. Or at least some of my powers — we don’t even know how many I have! What happened to your hair? Is Sally here? Hi, Sally!
Abulafia picked himself up from the ground.
I believe you have something of mine, he said.
Leonard ignored him.
We’ve come to take you home, he said to Felix.
Something small, Abulafia said. I need it back, we need it back. Tonight, in fact.
I can’t go home yet, Felix said. We’re bringing on the End of Days, then I can go home.
Felix, angel button, if you bring on the End of Days, there will be no home.
Felix looked up at Abulafia quizzically. The Master must have been three times Felix’s height. He knelt down so he could look Felix in the eye.
Technically, your uncle is correct, he said. But the End of Days is far better than anything, you’ll see.
Okay, Felix said. Leonard, you won’t believe the things I can do! Abba says that when I stop time, I’m at the edge of the orchard! He knows the secret of the orchard! He knows what the Bens, the rabbi, and the other guy saw there! He’s the rabbi who saw what was there and went home again!
Abulafia rose again to his full height.
The orchard is the mystical secret of everything, it is that toward which we ascend, we prophets. The unworthy cannot bear it — they die, they go insane or become heretics. You can see this thing, boychik, if you stay with me.
Don’t you call him that! Leonard warned.
He says I’ll see it too! Felix said.
But we have to leave now if we’re to see the pope tomorrow and be back before the Sabbath, Abulafia said, picking up his carrying bag. My small thing? he asked. Maybe you can give it to me now before you forget? — and he started inching toward Felix.
Leonard grabbed the boy.
Oh, no, Leonard said. Felix is finished with you. He’s coming home with us.
Aww, Leonard! Aww! C’mon!
Felix stomped his little foot.
I don’t wanna go home! You can’t make me!
It’s not going to work, Sally said. Abulafia, it’s not going to work.
All turned toward Sally. Abulafia put down his bag.
What do you mean? the mystic said. Of course it’s going to work — and he raised his arms over his head. I am the Messiah, moshiach, the anointed one, descendant of David, messenger of peace! I will share holy signs and wonders with the pope and he shall see! The End of Days shall be upon us! Glory, glory! Only I need my aleph, if you don’t mind — and he extended a hand to Leonard.
No, Sally said. Don’t you see? If you bring on the End of Days, how can you explain our being here?
You are sent here to annoy me. By Isaac the Blind, who doesn’t want me sharing secrets with the pope, this I already know. He is jealous. GIVE ME MY ALEPH! PLEASE! Do not make me send you to the land of frozen things!
No, Sally said, you’re not thinking. Where do we come from?
You come from an undiscovered land, this I already know.
Yes, but when? What time do we come from?
Abulafia leaned against a low table and scrutinized Sally.
Can you rephrase the question?
We come from the future, Leonard said.
Stuff and nonsense, Abulafia said, though he didn’t look so sure.
It’s true, Sally said. Far, far in the future. More than seven hundred years.
Fiddle-dee-dee, Abulafia said, looking from Sally to Leonard and back again, waiting for one of them to concede the joke. You are serious?
Utterly, they said in unison.
You must prove this thing to me.
Leonard and Sally looked at each other.
The navigator watch, that can only be from the future, right? Leonard said, inching toward the watch on the table.
I am willing to believe, he said, shifting a step or two to his left so he could stand between Leonard and the watch, that undiscovered nations produce wonders in our very day that are unknown to me.
Ask Felix, Sally said. You know he doesn’t lie.
Yes, Leonard said, ask Felix. Felix, you must tell Abulafia the absolute truth.
Yes, Felix said. We come from the future. Can I show my uncle a trick?
All the air seemed to escape Abulafia’s arms and legs. He lowered himself to the floor and slumped over his long limbs, hopelessly tangled.
If you come from the future, he said softly, his head in his hands, then I cannot usher in the End of Days and I am not the Messiah. The world cannot end and produce a future.
He looked so dejected, he seemed to have shrunk four sizes.
And the pope will kill me, he added.
I can help, Sally said.
You cannot help, Abulafia said, so deflated his forehead almost touched his toes. I will go — I must, or too many will lose their faith. But he will definitely kill me.
I can help, Sally said. If you follow my instructions, I can guarantee your safety.
Abulafia shook his head.
There can be no helping me. Who am I if I am not the Messiah, moshiach, anointed one, descendant of David, messenger of peace? What is my purpose if not to bring on the End of Days? Be quiet, I must meditate on this.
He straightened his back and closed his eyes. Leonard had never seen anyone sit quite so stilly before.